


Last Rites

by Lucem_Tenebrae



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alien Mythology/Religion, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Religion Changes, Bizarro Mass Effect, Bizarro World, Canon Rewrite, Dark Shakarian, F/M, Fictional Religion & Theology, Grimdark, Religion, Rewrite, Seriously kinda fucked up, Shakarian - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 05:24:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6941662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucem_Tenebrae/pseuds/Lucem_Tenebrae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In another world, Knight-Commander Jane Shepard stands as the champion of the Holy Imperium of All Humanity, when she is suddenly thrust into an even greater destiny; saving all of existence from an ancient and powerful threat. Banding together radicals and zealots alike, Shepard must save the galaxy...or die trying. From ME1 to ME3, a Dark AU rewrite of the Mass Effect trilogy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Rites

Ashes. There was always a scent of ashes in her memories. The monastery always had incense burning, but the fragrance dissipates and finds itself overtaken by the smoke of extinguished candles, leaving only the cinders on the windowsill. As the girl gazes onto the pile they formed, she rubs a finger through them, drawing black-grey figures on the wall by her bunk. Warriors slaying dragons, castles under siege, and always, always starships. Ashes on her fingertips, she runs to Mother Leliana and ask to have footage of the Shanxi Crusade played for her. And as always the elderly state worker smiles and relents, playing what she had, unedited. The girl clapped as she watched the slaughter of Turians, the ashes exploding in a cloud from her hands. 

The cloud filled her vision, and suddenly the girl, now a woman, found herself on Torfan, coughing as the scent of ash—now from battle—fills her senses. The grip on her rifle makes her hands ache, and she looks down, the corpses of her squad staring back at her. She mutters a prayer and thumbs the symbol engraved on her armor's chestplate. She cries out "For Our Father! For Our Empire!" and rushes from cover, the handful of Batarian soldiers falling as she pumps round after round into them. The civilians, having crept out of their hiding spots in the belief the invaders had been vanquished, ran. The warrior's vision grew red as she remembers that these same aliens, no matter how unarmed and frightened, were the same who had rejected and killed the missionaries who had graced the planet before her. So she turns her weapon upon them, watching them drop like stones as they tried to flee. A cry to her left makes her spin, and there a child huddles, four eyes wet with tears. Their unnatural blackness makes her sneer, and she levels her weapon, finger tugging on the trigger as— 

Jane sits up with a gasp, sweat coating her brow. One shaking hand moves to silence her alarm, the other wiping the moisture from her face. The dream was always the same. It was no nightmare, but it left her in shambles all the same. Slowly, she stands, taking a long deep breath as she checks the thin line of glass running along the top of her room's walls, locating the lone blue circle that went around it. Turning towards the azure light, she plucks her prayer beads from her nightstand, pressing the sun cross that hung at the end—that same crest that was upon her armor—deep into her clasped palms as she sinks to her knees, then pressing her forehead and elbows to the ground, hands still up in the air as she assumes a pose of prayer.

"Praise be to you, our highest and true Lord," she mumbles softly, "Grant me, upon this new day, furthered strength and conviction. Guide me, Lord, guide my hand, so that today will be a day of your praise, and a day filled with rivers of thy enemies' blood. Amen on high, Amen below." With one last shaking breath, Jane Shepard, the Cleanser of Torfan, rises and gets ready for the day.

**\--⊕--**

Stretching her arm and shoulder as she walked out of her XO's quarters, Jane stops to give a nod of greeting to the man seated not far from the room, who had paused his reading of scripture to smile at her. "Abdah Jane," he replies casually, applying the familiar honorific in a manner that makes her skin crawl a bit. It was not that Kaidan was at all unattractive. His beard was well styled and his head was finely shaved where many male soldiers simply gave a quick buzz, and his features and physique were both pleasing to look at. However, it was his eyes that made Jane leery, specifically the puppy dog look she often found when they passed in the corridors, only to find a hunger in them when she walked out of the sparring ring.

Kaidan Alenko was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and while part of that attracted her, the reason why left her uneasy; Nephilim were notorious for their duplicity and bipolar nature, stemming from their Lord-given powers, but their loyalty to the Imperium and the Imperial Father created a dangerous combination. And to fraternize with one of his rank was especially risky. There would be no trust, no sharing of secrets, no moments of weakness, for fear of giving him and the Synod ammunition to manipulate her or strip her of rank. She was pious, but no one was pious enough for Synod.

“That would be Knight Commander Shepard, Inquisitor Alenko,” she shoots back, though maintaining a polite and friendly tone. Despite his genetics and affiliation and dangerous flirtations, he was still a friend and crewmate.

He blushes, looking back down at the heavy text on the table. His visage is not unlike a dog caught with its snout in the trash. “Sorry, ma’am.”

Shepard continues on her way with the slightest smirk. Navigator Pressly gives her a salute as she passes, and she returns it crisply while still keeping pace. Soon she enters the cockpit, smiling as she approaches the black and silver monolith that sits before the mostly deactivated central console, wiring flowing directly into the controls. The ships readings and status were still up for view, but no human hands dance around to control them. “DRH, activate,” she calls out, “How are you, Jeff?”

From the pillar, a red light activates in its myriad of slots, and a holographic face of the same hue forms in the air an inch ahead of the mainframe. It has no eyes or hair or neck, appearing much like a mask. “Well hey there, Commander,” the semi-transparent face smiles, “Making the usual rounds to come see my digital ass? Or lack thereof.”

Chuckling, Shepard took a seat in the vacant operator’s chair to the right of Jeff’s central hub. Sometimes she wondered what it would be like to have actually known him as a human, but Jeff was born a degenerate, bones too weak to survive normal life. Hidden away on a backwater colony, he grew enough to begin attending school, with the IQ and intellect of natural born pilot. The perfect candidate to be made into a Digitally Recreated Helmsman. After all, an abnormality such as his could not be allowed to continue, polluting both the Lord’s world and the gene pool, but wasting his gifts would be to waste the purpose the Lord had crafted him for. “Well I always like visiting you, Jeff, but I’ll admit today I have another motive. You have access to all security feed; what’s that damned xeno been doing? I still can’t believe Command allowed a fucking Turian aboard the Avignon without giving Abdoh David a say!”

“Well I can tell you the captain isn’t a happy man. Surprisingly calm about it though,” Jeff replies.

“What do you mean calm?”

“He and the Turian were talking a few hours ago; can’t tell you about what, they turned off all mics in the room. But whatever it was made Anderson relax a bit, or at least complacent to the situation.”

“If it’s enough to make Abdoh David relax…”

“Yeah, my thoughts exactly. I’d bet my processing core this isn’t just a shakedown run, or even a pilgrimage for any of our crew members.”

“It’s a mission.”

“Bingo.”

“Fuck.”

“If only you were like me. I said that word more times than you could physically count in your lifespan within a second of putting the pieces together. But I suppose we can’t all be tall, metal, and perfect.”

“Ha! Fuck you, Jeff.”

“Well if you link the right devices to the ship’s wi-fi…”

“I’m going to go check on the Captain now,” Jane says, shaking her head with a grin. Jeff’s slightly metallic sounding giggle follows her as she leaves the cockpit.

**\--⊕--**

Beelining for the comms room, Jane keeps praying to the Lord she doesn’t bump into the Turian. Inputting her clearance code to the door, Jane walks into the room to find—

The Turian. Fuck.

The alien looks up at her, dressed in full combat gear, his beige and brown robes flowing on top compressed metal and heavy weave fabric, all a uniform white. She tries to avoid looking right at his brown, plated face. She always found Turians creepy, and from what she’s seen of Nihlus, he’s creepy even by turian standards. Probably due to the excessively calm exterior—Jane never trusted anyone who didn’t have a bad side.

“Ah, Knight-Commander Shepard. May the spirits count you a thousand blessings,” he greets, bowing his head and flaring his mandibles. It makes Jane shudder a bit.

“Yeah, thanks. May the Lord on High have mercy on your heathen soul,” she responds back, albeit in a manner that made the wordage more hostile than polite.

Nihlus seems to do the Turian equivalent of a frown, but continues on nonetheless. “I was hoping we could talk before the captain arrived... Now, this planet, Eden Nullus, it’s more than a simple settlement of ascetics, no? A symbol of your people, representing that you and your faith can brace any harsh climate, any planet, and press onwards. But like flower petals bracing the wind, just how stable is it? Is it really safe from the outside world?”

Jane reacted quickly, grabbing the Turian by the throat. “Are you threatening us, xeno? On my ship?”

“That would be _my_ ship, Knight-Commander.”

Jane immediately breaks her hold of the Turian, who looks as placid and calm as ever, unafraid of her, as she sees the aging Knight-Captain Anderson enter the room, cane in hand as always. Eyes going wide, Jane snaps to attention, giving a salute before crossing her in an X over her chest and bowing her head, the pose of a subordinate seeking forgiveness. “Abdoh David, I apologize. But this... _xeno_ was suggesting that his nation could harm Eden Nullus!”

“Did he really?” the man asks, skeptical, walking closer. “Stand at ease, Shepard, there’s much you need to learn before we reach the planet. Nihlus, if you would stop antagonizing my crew with cryptic statements?”

After a moment of hesitation, Jane relaxes, looking to shoot a glare at Nihlus. “Just what is going on here, captain?”

It is Nihlus that speaks first. “Shepard, I will go directly to the root of the matter; I’m looking to make you a Shade, acting as your evaluator.”

“ _What?!_ ” Shepard exclaims, utterly confused.

“This is big, Shepard,” Anderson inputs, “Humanity and the Imperium have been looking to assert themselves on a galactic scale. As much as we all don’t like it, that means being a bigger part of the community in Tribunal Space. Getting a Human made a Shade will do that for us.”

“But why me?” Jane asks, trying to process the ramifications of what was going on.

“I put your name forward,” Nihlus answers, elaborating at Jane’s obvious confusion, “What you did on Torfan was harsh, nasty, terrible work. The kind of work a Shade is required to do on many an occasion, if on a smaller scale. You got the task done, secured the planet, foregoing any excuses or qualms morality. As the dry forest sets ablaze, you did much as the fire and refused to calm until all you could kindle was wiped away. That is the kind of people that Secret Happenings and Discrete Exploration needs in the field tod—”

“But I’m a Human!” she finally cuts in, still shocked.

“I don’t hate Humans, Shepard. If anything I like you better than most races. Your people are honest and upfront with their beliefs and prejudices, and unashamed on top of that, whereas the Tribunal races attempt to cover up disgust and hate with politeness and false words. And Humans possess a _passion_ , an outright devotion and fervor for a cause, that’s hard to find in other races. Turians fight for balance in their own lives, Asari for their own power, Salarians for a cheap credit. But Humans? Humans will fight and die in the multitude in pursuit of a higher calling, for something greater than themselves. That can be dangerous in the eyes of many, but I see it as an invaluable asset to turn towards the strengthening of all species in Tribunal space.”

Anderson is smirking, despite his attempts at remaining stone-faced before an alien. “Our species appreciates the compliment Nihlus,” he responds, Jane simply lost in thought, “I think with that, it’s settled. Nihlus will be an overseer and assessor for Jane Shepard to become a Shade. Amen on High, amen below. Now should we tell the Knight-Commander what’s happening on Eden Nullus?”

That is enough to shake Jane out of her headspace. “So this isn’t a simple shakedown run or a pilgrimage. Who would’ve thunk it. We’re only fully staffed, fully armed, and carrying a Tribunal Shade with us,” she responds, voice thick with sarcasm. Luckily she had known Anderson long enough for him to ignore it.

“Eden Nullus found a Prothean device in one of its dormant volcanoes. I think we all know how that makes it an interest to all species. Asari, Humanity, and Turiandom alike found Prothean troves a fraction of this sized and used them to launch technology forward by centuries,” Nihlus explains.

“Which means no one wants anyone else keeping it all for themselves... So we’re pick-up crew?” Jane guesses.

“Precisely. Go in with the Avignon’s stealth systems, grab the device, bring it to the Bastion for analysis by scientists of _all_ races. No one’s getting a bigger leg up, but all of our peoples prosper.” It’s quite obvious Anderson mostly prefers the idea of Humanity staying on par with aliens.

It was at that moment, however, that Jeff’s holographic face takes over the main screen. “Knight-Captain Anderson, Knight-Commander Shepard, Xeno Kryik,” he states hurriedly, “you all are going to want to see this…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, yes, I know! Three active long term Dark AU fanfics? I must be crazy. But my muse is a flighty broad, and gets inspiration not for one story over and over, but a multitude, and if I don't write it down, I may never get the inspiration again. So, uhm, here we are.
> 
> If you found things in this confusing, then good, it ought to be, I'm changing the culture of every species in Mass Effect.
> 
> Any comments or questions are appreciated, and I will respond as soon and as best I can!


End file.
